


These Are The Days Of Our Lives

by lunarfoxx16



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anathema and newt are in highschool, Angst, Anthony Janthony Crowley, Aziraphale is an English major, College AU, Crowley is an Art major, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Ill add more tags as I go along, M/M, Multi, This will be chaos, and that’s on a good day, can i get a wahoo, crowley and Aziraphale share one braincell, crowley didn’t take over the family business, crowley was disowned, good omens - Freeform, i don’t know what i’m doing, i guess??, i mean its pretty triggering but, ill mention whenever it comes up but still, ineffable husbands, its for the plot i swear, oh boy it’s gonna be a ride, sheltered aziraphale, the them are in elementary school, theyre freshmen, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2020-10-21 06:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarfoxx16/pseuds/lunarfoxx16
Summary: Crowley is an average college student. Except for the fact that he isn't. He was disowned by his family after he elected not to pursue the major that would help him take over the family business. Instead, he started off another bland year with his art major of choice and all his many cups of coffee. However, his year turns out to be not so bland as he meets a sheltered blonde who happens to catch his eye.





	1. It’s a Hard Life

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Good Omens, or the characters, but this story and what happens in it all came from my own melon. Updates will probably be wild and very inconsistent but I promise I won’t forget about this story!!! Also most of the chapters will be named after Queen songs!

It was a nice day out on Infralapsus University campus. On said campus, a boy with deep red hair and dark clothes sauntered down the sidewalk, books in hand and headphones on. He was on his way to his next class but was running behind due to an incident involving his favourite jacket and the culprit; a venti iced coffee. He didn't look at those around him as he walked, keeping his head facing straight and vintage sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. It was his first day of college, however, he was already a bit behind on work, as he missed the official first two weeks. He made his way to his designated room and walked inside to locate his seat. Soon after he got comfortable, the bell chimed and the class began.

"Mr Crowley?" Once the last of the students filed out, Anthony J. Crowley was left standing alone in front of his Art History professor. Not only had the class been relatively uneventful, but he was also rather sure he knew what his professor wanted to articulate with him about.

"Yes, Professor?" The red-haired male acknowledged.

"I understand your parents weren't very pleased with the major you chose," the older male stated solemnly, "you know it's not too late to switch majors."

"Oh, I know sir. I simply have no interest in doing such a thing," Anthony declared cooly.

"If you insist. Shows your dedication to your passion. Anyways, here are the late assignments you must makeup, the rest were online. You should have received them by email." The elder man spoke, concern dissipating completely.

"Thanks." With that, Anthony strutted out of the room, frustrated with quite a bit already. He continued his path out the door, ready to down more coffee. 

\-----------

"FUCK" There came a crash and a bang as Anthony searched for his missing bag. 

"Oi, shut up Crowley," came a voice from the other side of the flat. A taller young man with dark eyes and hair bleached white was lounging on one of Anthony's couches. He was a quintessential bad boy, piercings, tattoos, and many parties. He was a bitter young man, never answering irrelevant questions, or countering with a snarky remark. One day at random, before Crowley even got his schedule, he began to talk to Anthony and started inviting himself over, leaving a mess in his wake. Occasionally he even brought along a friend of his own. Anthony didn't mind though. It was nice having some company in this overly large and empty apartment.

"Oh, shove it Hastur." Anthony snapped at the ebony eyed man. He continued to search for his absent bag, but eventually gave up when he accepted the fact that it never made it home. He flopped on a chair across from Hastur and opened up a store-bought iced coffee.

"What are you so pissy about today?" Hastur questioned, unamused by Anthony's antics. 

Anthony finished the last gulp of coffee before responding, "Oh you know, just the usual teacher-talk-about-my-tragic-anime-backstory. Nothing new except I lost my damn bag." He tossed the empty bottle in the nearby wastebasket before standing up and stretching.

"Ah," Hastur yawned. He watched as Anthony made his way to the front door, jacket and shoes in hand. "You going somewhere?"

"Yes, you dimwit. To go find that damn bag." Anthony huffed before leaving with a quick slam of the door. He made his way down the stairs of his apartment to the entrance. He opened the front door to see a face staring back at his own and a fist raised, about to knock. He was a young man, in the same year as Anthony. He was slightly shorter than Anthony, with fluffy white-blond hair, and large childlike blue eyes. In his other hand, Anthony noted a bag identical to his.

"Pardon me, dear!" Anthony was taken aback by the formality of this young man, "I'm looking for an Anthony J. Crawl- Cro- Crowley..?" The boy stuttered over pronouncing Anthony's last name.

"That'd be me," Anthony said, slightly bewildered, "I'm Anthony." He watched as the blond male brightened up.

"Fantastic!" He held the bag out for Anthony, "You must have forgotten it in your class, and I happened to stumble upon it! Thank goodness I got to it! When I got there, someone suspicious was scavenging near it. I'm glad you had your student ID in it, or I may not have found you this quickly!" The blonde gave a goofy grin after he finished rambling.

Anthony received the bag and slung it over his shoulder, "Thanks," he muttered, "Who are you again?"

The boy gasped, obviously shocked at something, "Oh, please do forgive me! How could I be so rude!!" He extended his hand towards Anthony, introducing himself, "My name is Aziraphale Fell! I'm a first-year English major!"

Anthony grimaced. He knew how English majors could be. This boy was probably some brat who thought he was high and mighty in knowledge. He awkwardly returned the handshake, making it more of an odd slapping of their hands, "The name's Anthony, well you probably know that from snooping in my bag." He stated cooly.

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry. I simply wanted to find it's home." Aziraphale looked at his shoes glumly. 

Anthony sighed. "It's alright Azra- Azee- er... " Anthony blushed, embarrassed at his failed attempt at the boy's name. 

"It's Aziraphale! Don't fret, everyone seems to botch it." He smiled politely at Anthony, who still had a red face.

"That's too much of a mouthful," Anthony insisted, "I know! I'll call you Bag Boy!" Aziraphale immodestly cringed, "Or, even better, I'll call you Angel." Anthony chimed, a smirk growing on his face. 

"A-Angel?!" Aziraphale yelped as his face turned a bright shade of pink, "I d-don't know if that's appropriate!" Aziraphale tried to reason.

"Oh, why not?" Anthony whined, obviously having fun toying with the innocent boy. The wily smile was still present on his face as he awaited the anxious blond's response. 

Aziraphale pondered the question, as well as the reason why this seemingly delinquent boy made him feel so fervent to get to know him properly. "Well," He paused, collecting his thoughts, "I suppose it's because... I, well... you barely know me! We've just met!" 

"Oh, who cares," Anthony drawled out the last word, "It suits you, seeing how pure and innocent you are." The red-haired male laughed, watching the blond squirm under his teasing. He decided to lay off, not wanting to scare the poor kid away. 

"I'm not that innocent!!" Aziraphale protested, "I can be a very bad boy when I want to be!" He attempted to puff out his chest but ended up looking very awkward in his sweater and khakis, causing the other boy to laugh even more so than before. 

"Oh man, you are a keeper!" Anthony wheezed, doubled over and finally catching his breath again. He concluded that this boy was not as stuck up as he appeared to be, and was rather entertaining. Hell, he might even be friend-material. What he didn’t realize, however, was that this boy was much more than simple friend material. From here on, Anthony’s anticipated uneventful school year would be vastly more exhilarating than he ever imagined. 


	2. I Want To Break Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not even a week into College Campus Life and Anthony is already in a crisis. Does he make a friend who could potentially rub off some Good things on him or does he push a goody-two-shoes away to prove that he is indeed a Troubled Kid?
> 
> TL;DR Anthony has Daddy Issues and a nerd that he doesn't know what to do with

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A h a ha sO uh, There is some abusive father content- it starts when the flashback does, so if that bothers you, you can skip, but you may be a bit confused. it's nothing too graphic, but that's my own opinion and I don't want to cause anyone harm. So yeah, watch out for that. Other then that scene everything else should be pretty comedic so bear with me!!!

After their very first encounter, Anthony continued to ponder over the blond boy named Aziraphale. After finally parting ways with the other male just a few nights ago, he had proceeded to go back to his apartment and participate in an internal scream fest. Of course, he was the only participant and could not participate in external screaming. He had indeed attempted, however, Hastur- still lounging around- had taken the lead in ordering Anthony to resign from his squawking. Within the few days that had passed, Anthony had not yet seen the blond on campus. In his defence, he hadn't lingered anywhere within the campus for a long enough span to see the boy. 

Anthony had just walked through the door of his flat when he dropped his keys, causing them to slide under a nearby table. As he reached down to grab them, his golden eyes caught a glimpse of something shiny even farther back against the wall. Anthony crouched down, stretching his arm under the table, effectively grabbing the item. As he got to his feet, the red-head gazed at the object in his hand. He turned it over in his hands, recognizing it as a vintage gold pocket watch. As Anthony tried to fiddle with it, the front opened up to reveal the inner clock as well as a neat engraving of the words "G. A. Fell" He cracked a small smile, now having a proper reason to see the boy again. 

Holding onto the newfound article, he ran his hand over the meticulous gold engraving, picturing the blond's goofy, lopsided smile and the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed-  _ No no no! I shouldn't be thinking like that!  _ Anthony shook his head, trying to ignore the confusing thoughts running through his mind. 

_ I barely even know him! Plus he's not the type of friend I need. If father were to find out that I was hanging with a good boy like him- Oh, I would never hear the end of it! "This boy will knock some sense into you," or "this boy will show you the proper way to be successful- he'll show you what you could've been if you hadn't failed me,"  _ Anthony trailed off into silence as he remembered the events that lead him to this campus.

\---------

_ "Anthony J. Crowley!" His father boomed from behind the door of the study.  _

_ The redhead with said name flinched. His father was drunk again. "Yes, father?" He responded meekly, opening the door just a crack. _

_ The larger man turned in his chair, dark eyes bore into Anthony's light ones. A pause. An inhale. A rustle. He holds up a collection of papers. "What the hell were you thinking?" His voice gradually gets heavier as the question leaves his mouth. _

_ Anthony looks at his feet with full knowledge of what his father was referring to. It was his college application, filled out with a neat black pen. At a glance, it seemed to be a perfect application. What could be wrong about it? Of course, it was the fact that he had applied for an Art Major. _

_ His father began speaking after Anthony refused to respond. "How many times have I told you? You apply for the Business Administration major and ONLY the Business Administration major!" He took a swig from his whiskey, swallowed, and stood up. He began walking towards Anthony and only stopped once he was a couple of feet away.  _

_ Anthony's breath caught and he was unable to swallow the lump in his throat. He had already been accepted, but there was no way to reason with his father sober, let alone drunk. Just as he opened his mouth to apologise, he shut it as his father stormed closer. _

_ "I thought I raised you better than this, Anthony. You were going to be successful in life, but you're just going to throw it all away?" His voice grew louder the more he spoke. _

_ "I- I'm sorry, father... I didn't mean to upset you... I... I didn't mean to-" His voice came to an abrupt halt as his father's face grew beet red. _

_ "Don't you DARE try and make excuses!" Spit flew as his father yelled, words slurring together from the alcohol. "Don't try and make a fool of me, you ungrateful little shit!!" _

_ "I'm sorry..." Anthony managed to get out as tears streamed down his face. He knew things could escalate when his father was drunk, but this was worse than any other time he could remember. _

_ "I bred you to be SMART AND SUCCESSFUL!!!" His father boomed, "Not to be a pathetic little weakling!" _

_ Anthony wiped his eyes to try and regain composure. Anger became to replace the guiltiness. He didn't want to be called weak. He wasn't weak. Adrenaline and rebellion took over, and before he could stop himself, he muttered, "At least I'm not a drunken dictator-"  _

_ There was a crash that echoed throughout the room and the hallways surrounding it. Blinding pain shot through the redhead as his father brought down the now empty bottle of whiskey over the cowering teen. _

_ Anthony blacked out for a few moments but remained on the ground until his father stormed out of the room. _

_ He slowly got up, the glass crunching beneath his feet. He winced as a pang shot through his shoulder blade up to his neck. He tenderly reached to feel it and flinched when his fingertips brushed against it. He wiped his eyes before leaving his father's study and packing his belongings. _

_ The call from his father the next day was not a pleasant one, but at least Anthony was miles away from the Bastard Who Aided in His Creation. He could finally escape the hell that was his home for now and not have to worry about his family finding him. Thank God, or whoever the hell, for Anthony being a dumbass and not telling the family that he reconnected with an old family friend. He could face all the repercussions later, but for now, he wanted to pass out on this mildly-soft cot. _

_ Eventually, Anthony had to go home after his mother called and pleaded with him to sort things out. He went begrudgingly with many barriers and hypothetical situations played out in his head. _

_ When he got to the house, he was very on edge, but the emotions he felt twisted and changed as he saw his father looking very worn out, and not looking as sophisticated as he usually did. He kept a stone face as he moved to sit across the table.  _

_ "Hello, Anthony," His father muttered, running a hand down his pale face. _

_ Anthony did his best to hide any tremble in his voice, "Hello, father." _

_ His father sighed before opening his mouth. "I believe we have some... business to discuss." He sat up a bit straighter, the sudden movement causing Anthony to unknowingly flinch. _

_ Anthony took a breath, "Yeah... Quite a bit." He knew he couldn't go back to this house by any means. He already thought through a lot while crashing at his friend's flat. He knew that whatever happened, he would not be going to Uni within a 25 radius of his father. It narrowed down his options on where to go, however, they were good options. After a few days of moping around in the same jumper and joggers, he had settled on a university. Infralapsus to be precise. He had absolutely no idea how it was pronounced or what it even meant, but it sounded kind of badass. _

_ "I know there was... a bit of a situation before you left." His father uncomfortable shifted in his seat. "You disappointed me very much, but I suppose my reaction was... unnecessarily harsh and uncalled for."  _

He resigned his pride and apologised? A concept. _ Anthony thought to himself. _

_ "However"  _ Uh oh, _ "You still failed the family and my expectations." His father straightened up, clearly more in tune with the feeling of power. _

_ Anthony stayed silent, waiting for whatever jurisdiction his old man concluded. His mother placed a hand on his shoulder as if to say 'I know it's horrible but it will be for the best.' Definitely not the most reassuring. _

_ "I have decided that you will no longer be a part of this family."  _

_ The words hit Anthony like a brick. He expected bad, but not being straight up disowned.  _

_ "I don't want you coming back here" _

_ Anthony was at a loss for words. _

_ "Since you're still eighteen, I will give you some money and an apartment. You'll have to pay the rent on your own."  _

Wait, what.

_ "Don't give me that confused look. It's only so you stay out of my damn house" _

_ Anthony wouldn't argue with that. _

_ Two weeks passed by as his father dealt with legal arrangements and other bullshit Anthony didn't care to pay attention to. His father 'coincidentally' bought Anthony's apartment right near Infralapsus University's campus. Anthony was able to settle in, albeit he missed the first two weeks of classes. He would miss his mum, but he was finally free from his father's grasp. His mother agreed to call and check in every once in a while, so he wouldn't feel completely isolated. He could finally study what he wanted. He could finally have his own personality! He never expected it to happen under these stressful and quite literally painful circumstances, but he was satisfied with the result. Finally away from that man. _

\---------

It was still quite hard for Anthony to process what had happened. Either way, the faster he returned the blond's belonging, the faster he could escape to his room and sleep for the next 3 days, resuming his quest to Not Work For His Father. Everything was so bothersome. He had made a friend and now he's trying to run away, all for the sake of spite. Anthony's thoughts raced through his head, a tornado of doubt and contradictions.  _ This boy can't be trusted, this boy will lead you back to your predetermined life, this boy will ruin everything you worked hard for _ .  _ This boy- _ A knock at his door stopped him in his thoughts.

Confused, Anthony made his way back to the entrance and made to open the door. Instead of turning the knob as he had expected, the door slammed promptly into his face.

Hastur walked through the threshold, either completely clueless about Anthony on the floor or just not caring. He cast a glance at the ginger on the floor as he stepped over him and made his way to the kitchen. "Hey! Where are your damn Doritos?" He called.

Groaning, Anthony pushed himself up. He rubbed his forehead where the door hit, cursing at Hastur under his breath. 

Hastur glared at Anthony from the doorway. "Come on dude. Where is your damn Dorito stash?"

"You literally just gave me a concussion from the door!!" Anthony growled in response. "Plus, why would you knock if you could open it yourself."

"Oh shut up, moron. It didn't even hit that hard. And I didn't want to get the key out, but you were taking too long." He complained monotonously. He walked back to the kitchen, leaving Anthony with a bruise that was appearing by the second.

Anthony wandered into the kitchen to continue his quarrel with Hastur.  _ Damn little emo bag of trash just walking in here like he owns the place, get lost ya dumb frog face. _ "The hell were you looking for again?" He received an inaudible grunt as Hastur rummaged through the snacks.

"The Dorito stash, you damn snake." Hastur continued to rummage, but to no avail, could not find the fated Dorito Stash.

Rolling his amber eyes, Anthony sighed, "You finished it yesterday. Did you forget already?" He scoffed before making his way to the small living area.

Brooding, Hastur followed, "No but I thought you always had a backup stash," He muttered.

"Yeah- you finished that too." He jeered. 

Hastur grumbled a variety of swears under his breath.

Sitting on the couch and turning on the TV, Anthony's mind was elsewhere. Specifically wherever the ( _ soft _ ) blond boy was. He paid no attention to whatever lame action-gang-fighting movie that Hastur chose. Instead, he imagined the blond boy's smile and how he seemed to be so pure and...  _ almost angelic? _ Anthony pushed the thoughts out of his head once again.

Not even a week into his college life, and Anthony already had a social conundrum. Oh, how he wanted to sleep for eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live. Kind of. I'm exhausted but I finally pumped out another chapter, Wahoo!! Too bad it was only flashbacks najsdjakajfdjare I swear I will try and post an actual chapter with Plot(tm) soon!!!


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